Someone to Love
by Celebrindal
Summary: Esmeralda, Merry's mother, explains to her nosy mother-in-law why she lets Frodo have such a large hand in raising Merry. Please R/R, no slash. Really good!


Someone to Love  
  
By: Celebrindal  
  
It was the February after her grandson Meriadoc was born that Mrs. Menegilda Brandybuck noticed something odd in the nursery of her grandson.  
  
Meriadoc (she never used her grandson's nickname) was now seven months old, having been born in July of 1382, and she decided to visit the child and see how he was being raised.  
  
She hobbled down the passages of Brandyhall, using her crooked cane, scowling at anyone who passed. She was a very vain hobbit, having once been a fair hobbit lass. Se had now gained much weight, as was healthy for hobbits to do. She was an unpleasant woman to be around, very nosy, and to call her slightly strange was an understatement. She opened the door to the nursery and was stunned by what she saw.  
  
A fourteen-year-old black haired hobbit boy was sitting on the floor next to the fair-haired baby Merry, cooing to the child and tickling the boy's feet. The baby was giggling revealing pink gums that still had no teeth. The boy turned when he heard the door open and his large blue eyes widened when he saw Menegilda.  
  
"Aunt Menegilda!" he said in a surprised voice and shot up and stood straight as a rod.  
  
Menegilda raised an eyebrow skeptically. She was related to this pitiful looking slip of a boy? "Who are you, boy?" she demanded in her crow like voice.  
  
"Frodo, son of Drogo and Primula Baggins," he answered, eyeing his aunt in what looked like curiosity.  
  
Oh! He was the orphan boy, the one whose parents had died in the boating accident two years ago. She had never liked that Drogo Baggins. He was too serious to have married her sister-in-law, the spirited Primula Brandybuck. She nodded to show recognition to the skinny boy. "What are you doing here? And where are Meriadoc's nurses and governess?"  
  
Frodo looked confused for a moment, then slowly answered, "He doesn't have any. Cousin Esmeralda allows me to watch him when she or Saradoc can't."  
  
Menegilda was appalled. "She doesn't hire any nurses?"  
  
"No," the boy said.  
  
Menegilda sniffed. "How often do his parents watch him?"  
  
Frodo shrugged, nervously stuffing his hands into his pockets. "About four hours everyday. Esmeralda's often in the kitchens helping prepare meals and Saradoc's always with Uncle Rorimac learning to be the Master of Buckland-"  
  
"Yes, I know boy," she said and looked around the room. "Is everything quite alright?"  
  
"Just fine."  
  
"Then I shall leave."  
  
"So soon?" The boy looked oblivious to the reason of her sudden departure.  
  
"Yes so soon. You will hear from me again, boy. Make no mistake."  
  
The boy shrugged as Menegilda stalked out of the room and went back to playing with the seven-month-old Merry.  
  
* * *  
  
So it was that Menegilda began spying on the orphaned Frodo, often finding herself in the same place as he.  
  
She found out that when he was not playing childish games with her grandson he was often in the library, burying his nose in various books. She also found that his appetite was perhaps not as large as was healthy for a growing hobbit. He had one of the smaller rooms in the Hall, consisting of a bed, a tiny wardrobe, and an undersized chest of drawers. When she looked in it while he was with Meriadoc, she found that some of the library's books were piled on his bed and more were in a neat pile on the floor.  
  
But the thing that surprised her most was when, near eleven at night, she saw the flickering of candlelight under his door. When she crept nearer and pressed her ear to the door. And heard the boy. . . sobbing. "Mum," he cried. "Da!"  
  
Menegilda stopped and momentarily felt sorry for the boy. Then she left the door and went to bed, forgetting the boy and his sobbing.  
  
* * *  
  
It was time to do something. It was appalling that an orphan boy of no account or experience with babies should care for a future Master of Buckland. She decided to speak to Esmeralda. Surely Meriadoc's mother would have something to say about this.  
  
She approached her daughter in law while she was in the kitchen one day, stirring a pot of boiling mushroom stew. "Esmeralda," she sniffed. "I'd like to speak with you about the upbringing of your son."  
  
"One moment," Esmeralda responded, wiping her hands on her apron as she took it off. "Myrtle, will you keep an eye on my stew?"  
  
"Of course, Esmeralda," Myrtle, a young lass of about twenty-six years said.  
  
"What is it you wanted to tell me about Merry?" Esmeralda said several minutes later when the two were sitting at a table, cups of tea clutched in their hands.  
  
"Merry?" Menegilda asked hesitantly.  
  
"That is what we call Meriadoc. It seems such a long name for such a small child."  
  
"I see." Menegilda obviously didn't see, though. "I was wondering why you haven't hired any nurses for young Meriadoc."  
  
"Well, with Frodo being so willing to help, I didn't think it was necessary." She took a sip of tea as she said this. "Frodo is such a charming boy. I'm glad I have him to help out."  
  
"But it's so odd!" Menegilda now sipped her own tea. "A boy of fourteen and all he does is care for a baby and read! Boys that age should be outside, playing with children their own age!"  
  
Esmeralda set down her cup. "Frodo has things in his past that makes it impossible for him to be like the other boys."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, you remember Drogo and Primula and how they died. Even though that was two years ago, Frodo really hasn't gotten over it."  
  
The sobbing Menegilda had heard through Frodo's door suddenly came back to her with a sudden clarity. "But why does he always have to be with Meriadoc? Couldn't he just visit him occasionally? He should be raised by nurses and his parents, not his cousin!"  
  
Esmeralda held up a hand, silencing her mother-in-law, much to Menegilda's annoyance. "When Merry was born Frodo looked at him with such wonder I couldn't help but ask him if he'd help look after Merry."  
  
"But why don't you tell him that Meriadoc needs nurses and not him?"  
  
Esmeralda shook her head. "You don't understand! We all need someone to love, Menegilda. When Frodo lost his parents he lost everyone he loved but his Uncle Bilbo, who lives all the way in Hobbiton. I couldn't rip his chance to love someone again from him."  
  
Menegilda shook her head, gray curls aquiver.  
  
"I know you don't understand, Menegilda, but I let Frodo help because he needs someone to love. Everyone does. Frodo has been happier these past months than he has been for two years. I can't just tell him he has to let my son go! He's now more like a son to me than a cousin. He's part of the family."  
  
Menegilda shook her head again. "Well, if your son turns out bad because he was raised by a Baggins, don't come crying to me!"  
  
"I don't think I'll need to," Esmeralda said. The two hobbits sat glaring at each other for several minutes until Esmeralda stood up. "Excuse me, but I have mushroom stew to tend to."  
  
Menegilda stood up as well. "Good bye, Esmeralda," she said coldly. "I'll see you at afternoon tea."  
  
Esmeralda nodded and swept off to the kitchen.  
  
A few feet away, around a corner Frodo Baggins, holding a wee Merry Brandybuck, buried his face into his cousin's fair curls. "Thank you, Esmeralda," he whispered into the hair. "Thank you."  
  
He pressed a kiss onto Merry's forehead, who giggled in response. 


End file.
